


Countdown to

by Aki_Kaminari



Category: Tales of Symphonia: Dawn of the New World
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Kaminari/pseuds/Aki_Kaminari
Summary: Emil returns to the Ginnungagap after many years.
Relationships: Emil Castagnier & Richter Abend
Comments: 9
Kudos: 7





	Countdown to

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to work on another TOS-R related WIP and ended up with this instead. Oops.  
> Can be read as Richter/Emil (as I ship them like I work at FedEx during Christmas), but as there's no actual romance in here I put it in the platonic tag instead.

* * *

The seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years—all of them had come to blend together. Five minutes could have easily been five days or even five months or vise versa. Time didn't really mean much when you were basically a living padlock and would stay that way for approximately a thousand years. Richter supposed that he _could_ ask Ratatosk about it, but what difference would that make? The most it would do would be to make Richter feel like a child with no sense of time, asking _'Are we there yet?'_

Pointless. 

* * *

Stars stretched out across the endlessly expanding sky as Emil stared up at the massive stone formations that marked the entrance to the Ginnungagap. He inhaled the outside air for what would likely be the last time for several hundred years. In the crisp night air, he could see his breath. Winter was just around the corner.

Emil watched the tiny cloud dissipate in the wind, kicked off the dirt that had stuck to his boots, and then stepped into the center of the towering ancient pillars.

* * *

While Richter occasionally ended up conversing with Ratatosk, the majority of time spent in here was silence apart from his own breathing and the indescribable ambience of this chamber that seemed to originate from nowhere.

Then there were footsteps.

Richter opened his eyes blearily. Emil. On the other side of the room, Emil and Ratatosk were looking at one another wordlessly, as if they had no need for verbal communication. Maybe they didn't. Then the footsteps moved closer.

"Richter-san."

"Emil," Richter acknowledged. Though Richter’s voice was evidently hoarse from disuse, it carried easily in the mostly empty space. He took in Emil’s appearance. His clothes were different from the blue, black, and gold ensemble Richter had become accustomed to seeing him in. They were more muted; more plain. Otherwise he had the same slight stature, the same rounded face and bright hair that persistently stuck up in one spot at the top. The same as Aster. The same as Ratatosk.

The footsteps stopped directly in front of Richter. The monotony of the same background noise settled in once again. Richter’s eyes fell to the mantle draped around Emil’s shoulders. Someone had embroidered a polwigle on it where the fabric fastened together and bunched near the neck. The small colorful patch stood out on the otherwise drab garment.

"You look tired," Emil said softly.

"So do you."

Beside Richter, Emil turned around and pressed his back to the door, and slid down it to sit on the floor. Richter finally asked the question that he hadn't been able to bring himself to ask of the other presence in the room:

"How long has it been?"

Emil's hands rested on his knees. His gaze was fixated on his fingers as he kneaded small circles over them through the fabric. "One hundred," he answered, "down to the day. It’s a little longer than most humans would live, but I felt like Aster-san at least deserved that much."

Though Emil's voice was calm and even, Richter got the distinct impression that something was off. Or maybe that something had changed. During the few moments that the two of them had made eye contact, Richter could tell that Emil seemed withdrawn. Ratatosk still hadn't spoken a word. It seemed that he had gone back to work picking apart the inner workings of the world. Richter was curious, but he didn't know what to say.

Silence stretched between them, but he didn't have to wait long. Or maybe he did, considering his messed up perception of time. It was anyone's guess.

"It was nice. For the first few years, I stayed near Palmacosta. It's where Marta was, and Lloyd and his friends passed through every once in a while. Sometimes together, sometimes separate."

Richter looked to the side at Emil, dividing his focus between the door and listening to what Emil had to say. He had gotten better at it. The first time Ratatosk had struck up a conversation, Richter hadn't been anticipating it after what had seemed like ages of silence and the flow of his mana had slipped from the door. Not long enough to allow anything out, but still risky. Unacceptable.

There was a stray thread on one of the legs of Emil's pants. He pulled at it. Once it became evident that Richter wasn't going to push him into continuing, Emil's shoulders slumped. "It took a few years. Maybe five, ten," Emil continued, twisting the thread around one of his fingers. "Eventually, it was obvious that I wasn't aging. At all." The thread tightened. The 'blood'—or whatever approximation of it—that circulated below the skin was causing the tip of his finger to turn purple. How ironic that a small detail like _this_ could seem human. Mortal. "It's stupid, right? Spirits don't permanently change form unless they revert to their core first. I should have realized that sooner. A lot sooner, but I guess part of me wanted to think that maybe I was different. A special case." Across the room, Ratatosk's eyes shifted in Emil's direction, half-lidded.

"I got into a big argument about it. With Marta. We eventually both apologized, but nothing was quite the same between us after that." Not when the difference between them would just continue to increase.

When Emil chanced a glance at Richter, he realized that Richter was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Emil looked back down, unsure of what face to make, himself. "I traveled a lot after that. I started to be the one visiting everyone else instead of the other way around." He suddenly spun towards Richter, eyes shut tightly along with a smile. "I did my best! I learned a lot, and did whatever I could to help make the world better on the outside, for the people living there right now. I ended up spending a lot of time with Professor Sage and Genis. I felt like they could understand a little of what it was like, since half-elves live much longer than humans do."

Though Emil wasn't actually looking to see it, something in Richter's expression changed. This is what he, himself, would have eventually gone through with Aster.

"But," Emil continued, "even the two of them were changing. Little by little." The thread snapped, releasing the pressure on Emil's finger. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. "Sheena was the first. Some kind of illness. Her hair wasn't even all the way grayed yet." Emil stared at the frayed ends of the string, then shook his head. "You can guess what eventually kept happening after that. I'm…I'm still not over any of them, not really."

"Emil…" Richter murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Emil continued as if Richter hadn't said anything. "Out of all the humans, Colette and Zelos are still alive. I think the time they spent with Cruxis Crystals equipped made their bodies age slower. Zelos still tries to flirt with every lady he meets." Upon hearing that, Richter rolled his eyes and Ratatosk snorted. "And Colette still trips over her own feet. I can't believe she's never seriously hurt herself doing that. Luck like that can't be normal." Emil mused. The mood had been lightened a little, if only for a moment.

"Lloyd was the last to go a couple years ago. His Exsphere was different from a normal one somehow, but it wasn't to the point of being a true Cruxis Crystal. Not quite.

"It's going to be hard, when this is all over. Knowing that once we can leave here, the rest of them will be gone, too." The thread slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. Emil didn't chase it. "I'm tired, Richter-san."

Richter lowered himself onto his knees and gently placed a hand on Emil's shoulder. Emil started at the touch. He didn't brush it off, but he made no move to lean into it. The next time Emil spoke, Richter had to strain to hear it.

"When we get out, eventually, I'm going to lose you too someday."

The focus that Richter had on the door nearly cracked for the first time in decades. His jaw went slack, lips parted barely the width of a paper. As a half-elf, outliving any companions outside of his own race was just a fact of life, no matter how much he didn't want it to be that way. Even though it should have been obvious, he had never delved into the thought of that concept being turned on its head; of an existence like Emil's outliving him many times over. If a human's life compared to a half-elf's was like a hill compared to a mountain, then a Spirit would be like the entire planet. If it had a natural end at all. The timespan wasn't of a scale that Richter could truly fathom.

But Emil could feel just as deeply as the smallest of those hills.

Richter pulled Emil into his arms and embraced him. Emil's body went rigid, but after a few moments he trembled and threw his arms around Richter as if the man would disappear right that moment.

“I’m so sorry,” Emil whispered. “You gave up everything to stay here. I wanted to live for your sake, and for Aster-san’s sake. There was so much more that I wanted to accomplish. After everything that happened I don’t know if I really managed to do any of that. I don’t know at all anymore.”

Gloved fingers ran over Emil’s back in what Richter hoped was a soothing gesture. He wasn't exactly an expert on comforting people. A few lukewarm drops fell onto the nape of his neck. The seconds (minutes? hours?) passed. Eventually Richter put one hand on each of Emil's shoulders and created enough distance between the two of them for eye contact.

"Listen." Richter said. A gentle command. Or perhaps it was a plea. Maybe both. "I'm here because this is where the choices I made led to. I had more than enough opportunities to take a different path, and I didn't."

Emil looked like he wanted to say something about that, but Richter continued to speak. "I can't say anything for Aster. I've learned that it isn't my place to. It's one thing if you have regrets," Richter said, "but that doesn't mean the way you chose to live is 'wrong.' There isn't a 'wrong' way to live. You just live, and you don't owe anyone an apology for living."

Emil opened his mouth, closed it, looked down and then back up at Richter. "Even so, I'm sorry," he insisted quietly.

Normally that would have made Richter angry. But there was something decisive about Emil's expression behind all of the pain, so Richter held his tongue. He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, if Emil was upset with him for saying something like that instead of reprimanding him.

"I…" Emil began, "might have been apologizing to myself."

Richter stood up, bringing Emil with him. One hand moved from Emil's shoulder and landed on the top of his head. "Rest," Richter said. Even through his gloves, Emil's hair was soft. "Whatever happens in the future is something for our future selves to decide. And…" Richter stared Emil down with unwavering determination. "Don't make a ghost out of me when I'm right here in front of you."

Clearly Emil hadn't been expecting that because his eyes went wide and he blinked up at Richter. It was the closest Richter had seen to one of Emil's normal expressions since he had returned.

"Okay?" Richter persisted.

Emil nodded slowly. "Okay." He straightened his posture and brushed off his clothes. "...Okay," he repeated quieter, mostly to himself. He turned on his heel and walked back over to Ratatosk. The two nodded at one another. Emil spared one last glance in Richter's direction, then raised his hand in front of himself while Ratatosk did the same. The instant their fingers touched there was a shimmer of light, and then Emil vanished. The only evidence that he had been there in the first place was the dull beige cloak that now adorned Ratatosk's shoulders.

Ratatosk looked almost melancholy. Richter had never seen him make that kind of face before.

Anything that had been said, anything that was left unsaid, all of it would be for later. It was the only thing any of them could do for the time they had left and things that were yet to be done.


End file.
